


Fine Dining

by MilitaryPenguin



Category: Todoku Mokushiroku Kaiji
Genre: Blow Jobs, Food Kink, Licking, M/M, Oral Sex, berries and cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2218062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilitaryPenguin/pseuds/MilitaryPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This cake is pretty bland on its own…but it tastes delicious on you, Murakami," purred Ichijou.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine Dining

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following request: "Ichijou and Murakami - food fetish time!! Fun times with at least one of them eating/licking something yummy off of the other."

"Murakami."  
  
His boss’s voice made him jolt upright. Until just now, all that could be heard was the clinking of forks against plates with the occasional clatter of a coffee cup being set down on its own separate plate. Ichijou didn’t like talking while in the middle of eating, and Murakami knew whatever made him break this unwritten rule of his was in need of his undivided attention.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
It took him a moment to realize Ichijou’s stroking two fingers against his cheek meant he had a bit of cake on his cheek. Murakami flushed at this; he was so absorbed in consuming his slice of cake that he didn’t mind his appearance as he normally would. He hoped that Boss wouldn’t brand him as sloppy for this, and carefully set down his plate as delicately as possible while picking up a napkin.  
  
"Wait," said Ichijou, holding up a hand, "Let me take care of it."  
  
Murakami’s insides froze as his boss climbed into his lap. By contrast, his cheeks were increasingly getting hotter, to the point he worried he’d accidentally burn the hand Ichijou was now stroking his cheek with. He forgot how  _forward_  Boss could be when they were in private like this. Or rather, he underestimated it—he nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt Ichijou lean in to lick the cake off his cheek.  
  
"This cake is pretty bland on its own…but it tastes delicious on you, Murakami," purred Ichijou.   
  
Ichijou’s fingers fell down to the buttons on Murakami’s shirt. “I think I’d like to eat the rest off of you. Would that be fine with you, Murakami?”  
  
"Y-yes sir," said Murakami, sweating profusely.  
  
They moved their position to the couch, Murakami lying down while Ichijou sat on top of him, straddling his hips. His boss’s hands were quick to strip him of every article of clothing, including his lower body’s. Cake was smeared all over his chest in a move that Murakami saw as being very unusual for his boss, who prided himself in being clean and tidy. Then again, Boss was never really his usual self when arousal was clouding his mind.  
  
The slippery warmth of Ichijou’s tongue caressed all over his sticky, crumby chest, stopping once in a while to lick up and eat the slices of strawberries he dotted on him. Murakami’s toes curled and his cheeks grew impossibly hotter with every lick of Ichijou’s tongue on his bare chest. Ichijou began carefully pouring now-cooled coffee into his navel and lapping it up.  
  
Murakami felt his cock twitch, aching for attention. Ichijou took notice of this, looking up at him and grinning.  
  
"How rude of me. This isn’t any fun for you, is it, Murakami?"  
  
"N-no, it’s fine, Boss!"  
  
"There’s no need to lie…" Murakami gasped as he felt Ichijou’s fingers wrap around his stiff cock. "…I think this is a suffice enough answer."  
  
Murakami gulped and Ichijou laughed softly.  
  
"Let’s do something that’s fun for both of us."  
  
Ichijou took the plate of Murakami’s half-eaten cake and proceeded to coat his cock with it, placing a strawberry at the tip of it. Satisfied with his work, his tongue slid up and down his shaft, licking it with a thoroughness as though it were a real dessert. Murakami couldn’t stop himself from moaning loudly. He’d received oral before, but not with this kind of passion—not with that look of sheer contentment on his partner’s face.  
  
His boss pulled his lips over his cock, licking up the strawberry before getting to work on sucking it. He continued running his tongue along Murakami’s cock, now with the added warmth of his mouth enveloped over it. Murakami began to wonder if the boss was being literal when he said he tasted good; the look on his face coupled with the sounds of soft “mmm”s emitting from Ichijou seemed to confirm his suspicions.  
  
When Murakami came into his boss’s mouth, Ichijou happily gulped his semen down, chewing up the strawberry he apparently stored in his cheek along with it.  
  
"That was delicious, Murakami," Ichijou said, licking his lips, "We should do that again sometime."  
  
Murakami internally noted to make a mess of himself in front of his boss more often.


End file.
